Smoking Will Kill You
by Some Totally Original Username
Summary: "Smoking will kill you, bru." Matt slowly looked up at his longtime friend Danny Archer across the airport bar table, one eyebrow raised. The South African man smirked and nodded to emphasize his point. Matt scoffed and shook his head, taking another drag on his cigarette. "Says the chain-smoking diamond smuggler."


"Smoking will kill you, bru."

Matt slowly looked up at his longtime friend Danny Archer across the airport bar table, one eyebrow raised. Their last 'farewell round' of alcohol sat half-finished between then. The South African man smirked and nodded to emphasize his point. Matt scoffed and shook his head, taking another drag on his cigarette. "Says the chain-smoking diamond smuggler." He replied.

Archer shrugged. "Come on, Mattie, I've been trying to quit." He said, spinning his lighter on the table.

"That probably means 'Only one pack per day.'"

"Matt, you wound me. I'm serious this time; I'm going to quit."

"I call bullshit." He leaned forward and mockingly blew out a mouthful of smoke into his friend's face. "What's the reason? A special girl? Come on, Archer, you're better than that."

"Nah. It's just that if I die, I want it to be on my own terms, not cancer or some damn thing."

Matt shook his head and laughed incredulously. This was the day when pigs would fly; Danny Archer was going to quit smoking. "We've been smoking since we were just kids, and we don't have cancer now. Besides, our life expectancy isn't exactly optimal."

"Well, for me, I've been smoking for longer that you've been alive, _Mattie_." He smirked. "Besides, better late than never, ja?"

Matt shrugged off the subtle insult. "Look, Archer." He said. "How's this; if you quit, I'll quit on the spot, right then and there. _And_ I'll hand over my paycheck."

Archer cocked an eyebrow. "That a wager, then?"

"Wager, bet, gamble, whatever you want to call it. But if you don't quit in, say, six months, then I win the bet and _I_ get _your_ paycheck."

Archer laughed and shook his friend's hand, standing up. "I look forward to receiving my money." He said. "Got to go, mate, I think that's my flight. And hey, when you see that Mello bloke you work for, tell him to come to Africa if he wants real action. I have a job he might be interested in."

Matt shook his head as Archer walked off, his bag swung over his shoulder as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. _Some things never changed._ He mused before finishing his drink and paying the tab, walking back to his waiting car.

.

_"Smoking will kill you, bru."_

Of all the things to come back to him at that moment, Archer's words did. He glanced at the cigarette in his fingers, then smiled wryly and let it drop to the ground, grinding it into the dust with the toe of his shoe. He glanced around him at the men who surrounded him. Desert Eagles. Archer would be drooling right about now for those guns; either that or making some kind of witty comment about them to Matt.

"Since when were the Japanese allowed to carry such big guns?" The hacker said, determined not to go out like some kind of pansy. "Look, you got me; I'm part of this whole kidnapping incident. That means you'll have a lot of questions to ask." He smirked. "You wouldn't shoot-."

The sound of gunfire on all sides cut him off. It was actually quite painless; nothing like what you expect. One moment he was being a smartass, then there was a slight pain, and the next second he was just standing in an airport terminal. The terminal was deserted and too clean to be normal. _Seriously? This is what I get for an afterlife?_ He thought as he looked around.

"Smoking killed you, bru."

Matt turned to see Archer walking up, remarkably cleaner than usual. It didn't take a genius to figure out that they were both dead. "I'm afraid you're wrong there." Matt said. "The bullets did."

"But the smoking helped."

"… Alright, sure. The smoking helped." He glanced over the diamond smuggler. He looked like he'd been forced to sit through a twenty-four hour marathon of _Leave It to Beaver._ "What happened to you? You look… _wholesome._"

Archer shrugged with a ghost of a smile. "A diamond, a father trying to find his kid, and a very special girl." He explained. "In general, Africa."

Matt laughed. "A _girl?_ Archer, I expected more from you."

"Ja, ja. Let's go get a drink, shall we?" He patted his friend on the shoulder. "After all, we're already dead. It's not like a few shots can kill us, ja?"

Matt laughed. _Some things never change._


End file.
